Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 12 - Chapter 5

5

Unsurprisingly, Iroha Isshiki is the most powerful of underclassmen.

The day after that exchange in the clubroom was a warm one for once. The wind was blowing strong right from morning, and the windows were rattling even after class was done for the day. The sunlight coming in through the glass was enough to warm up the classroom, so the heater was relieved of duty early.

My classmates were not fond of the winter cold and had been reluctant to part with the heat before, but that day, they couldn’t get out fast enough.

Left in the sparsely populated classroom, I picked up my mostly empty bag to join the outgoing flow.

I got a tap-tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I saw it was Yuigahama, already in her coat. I knew what she was here for, and I rose from my chair.

Then she wrapped her scarf around her neck as she tilted her head. “What are you gonna do today, Hikki?” she asked.

“…Ahhh.” I didn’t quite know what to say. Maybe it was because that wasn’t quite the question I’d been expecting.

Yuigahama had said that if Yukinoshita needed anything, she’d help as a friend—but I hadn’t really declared my plans. And neither of them had asked me about it. I didn’t have a job right now.

All this time, I’d always said I just do this stuff because I have to. None of that was a lie, and that would probably continue to be my stance from here on out, too. I had not accepted any requests, or consults, or responsibilities to fulfill, or contracts to execute, or wrongs to make up for.

I didn’t have to go to the clubroom.

As it took me a weirdly long time to derive that conclusion, my expression had shifted into a strained smile.

“Nah, going home.” Even as I said it, I wasn’t quite sure what the subject of the sentence was or whether it was true, but I swallowed down the uncertainty and said something else. “What about you?”

Yuigahama also paused for a moment, fiddling around with her scarf near her mouth. “Hmm…I’m going home, too…”

“Oh.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, burying her face in the wool, and the conversation trailed off.

It was just for the briefest moment, but the silence there was palpable. I don’t think I was the only one bothered by it. It wasn’t much in the way of proof, but Yuigahama and I did exchange a few glances back and forth.

…What?! What the heck is this silence?!

I was getting confused, so I wondered if I should say something else. Unfortunately, I couldn’t really come up with anything. So to smooth over the pause, I hefted my bag up and adjusted it on my shoulder, even though it wasn’t really heavy enough for that. “…See you.”

“Ah, okay. See you,” Yuigahama said, then waved at me. I nodded in return and started walking, then heard footsteps pattering behind me.

I turned back to catch the moment Yuigahama glomped Miura. “Looks like there’s no club for me today, either, so I’ll go with you!”

“Mmm.” Miura was clicking away on her phone and tugging her curls with her fingers, but then she did a double take as Yuigahama’s unusual reply finally hit her. “…Wait? Really?! You can come, Yui? Great! Omigod, I wasn’t even thinking of anything. Omigod, where do we go?” she said, immediately looking over at Ebina.

Ebina giggled. “You can pick, Yumiko. It’s just Chiba anyway, right? Not like I know.”

“Huh? If I decide, then our only option’s Kushiya Monogatari.” Miura’s earlier shock had completely evaporated, and she was acting all haughty now.

“Oooh, hype.” Ebina applauded blandly. She did not sound hype.

At least Yuigahama was happy to hear this little exchange. “Sooo skewers?” she asked with excited innocence. “Deep-fried? Really?”

And what the heck is Kushiya Monogatari…everyone telling stories about skewers of fried chicken? Or is it the story of fried chicken skewers? I think people would argue over how to read that…

But anyway, Yuigahama’s after-school plans were now settled.

As for me, however, I had absolutely no plans. Now, whatever shall I do? I wondered as I left the classroom and walked silently down the hallway.

Since we’d just had a long weekend, I’d gone through my pile of recorded TV shows, and I’d read just about all the books I had in my room. I just gotta catch up on my game backlog, huh…? I was trying not to play console while Komachi was busy studying…, I thought as I went down the stairs.

I was pretty excited about the opportunity to be a couch potato and game to my heart’s content for the first time in a long while, and I was very excited for the new release of a mainline installment in a major franchise; I could even stay up three nights in a row for it… Will the hero Eightman yet again save the world?

The more I thought about it, the more excited I became, and I got a bit of a skip in my step.

It crossed my mind that before I’d joined the Service Club, I’d always spent my time like this. Doing what I wanted.

I headed down the stairs and toward the front entrance.

And there, I caught sight of Yukinoshita with her coat under one arm, presumably on her way to the student council room. She seemed to be walking at a rather brisk pace as well, which made me hesitant to call out to her. In the end, I just watched her go from a distance.

From that day forward, Yukinoshita and Isshiki would be planning the prom.

I didn’t know the details there. Yukinoshita and I never interacted outside of the Service Club, so if I wasn’t going, there was no way to ask. She was in the international curriculum, and I was just in regular classes, so we didn’t even wind up together in gym or nonacademic classes.

So the only opportunity for us to interact would be if we happened to run into each other by chance. I wasn’t about to barge in and ask about the prom.

Of course, this was partly because I never got a chance to talk to her, but that was far from the only reason. If I just walked up and said How are things going? or Working hard? when I wasn’t going to help, I could imagine what someone would think: Who the hell do you think you are? or like What right do you think you have to be talking, creep? So I was hesitant to speak with her. Although just thinking about this stuff already made me pretty creepy. Truly a fearsome self-consciousness indeed…

As I was busy getting myself down like this, Yukinoshita turned a corner.

I couldn’t see any hesitation in her footsteps.

Her back was beautifully upright, her dignified gaze pointed straight ahead, her long, glossy black hair swaying with each rhythmical step she took.

After she was completely out of sight, I finally remembered that I’d been on my way home.

I hadn’t played a console game in forever, so I’d stayed up all night gaming. I rubbed my sleepy eyes as I went to school, then went back to my marathon session the moment I got home.

I was whizzing through the story, enjoying the hell out of it, but RPGs always have those moments when you grind to a halt.

Generally, the reason is either underleveling or completionism. As for leveling—this game wasn’t particularly brutal, but the completionist elements were the sticky part. Especially because, as someone who was raised on Pokémon, I am driven by the compulsive need to fill up the Pokédex, so I was desperately filling out the bestiary like a guy who was a loser in high school seeing he has no plans for the weekend in university and trying to pack his schedule like the cool kids.

You’ve got trophies, titles, and the bestiary, and then there’s challenge runs on your second and third playthroughs of the game, etc.…

And the whole “new school, new me” in university metaphor doesn’t stop there. After he tries to really cut loose over the summer break after first semester, which makes people say stuff behind his back like …That guy’s kind of a try-hard; Honestly, he’s sometimes cringe; Sometimes I feel so bad for him; He’s really got a fundamentally different vibe to him, you know, he suddenly up and disappears in the second semester—just like my motivation to finish this game… University kids are terrifying!

When you get right down to it, once hobbies and play become quota and routine, they’re not much different from work. It took me three days of all-nighters to realize this, and yet again I was heading to school with massive sleep deprivation.

I devoted pretty much every class to napping, and as a result, by the time school was over, my back really hurt.

Once the end-of-day homeroom was over, I somehow sat up and tried to twist my cracking, creaking, and popping back. My spine had so much to say, you could call it a backache monogatari.

Between the pain and the fatigue, I fell into pondering the joys and sorrows of life as I turned and twisted my back, then heaved and hoed myself out of the classroom.

That was when Totsuka, who’d apparently been watching me from a distance, trotted up to me. “You’ve been sleeping all day today, huh, Hachiman? You’ve been like this for a little while now. Are you okay?” As soon as he was next to me, he examined my face with concern. The gesture reminded me of a pet rabbit, and I couldn’t help but smile.

But at the same time, I felt bad at putting unnecessary worries on him. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I’ve just been staying up gaming for the past three nights.”

“O-oh, really…”

I thought I’d managed to be pretty cheery, but Totsuka seemed a little put off by my declaration. Wonder why. Well, stop wondering—bragging about how you haven’t slept would turn off anyone. I was standing there going like, I haven’t gotten aaany sleep; I’ve been staying up the past three nights gaming and haven’t gotten aaaany sleep! Whoaaa, where’d you hear that I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately, huh? Where’d you hear that? Most people find that behavior pretty obnoxious.

Totsuka put his hands on his waist like he was collecting himself and puffed up his cheeks sulkily. “But you have to take care of your health. You should only be gaming for an hour a day!” He wagged his finger at me and chided me with a Fair play, fair duel! sort of vibe. He’s such a good guy…

Totsuka glanced back toward the classroom we’d just come out of, then added in a quiet murmur, “Besides, if you keep doing that, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama will get mad at you, right?”

I had to smile at that. He was right. They would scold you over stuff like this. “…Well, I can do it because club’s not on right now,” I replied.

Totsuka nodded a few times, as if that made sense to him. “Ohhh. A holiday, huh?”

“For a little while. So I’ve got nothing else to do…,” I replied, and a big yawn slipped out of me. I’m getting really sleepy… I can even see angels in front of me. Wait, no, not good! Totsuka only just gave me a reward… Well, that was technically a tongue kis—wait, no a tongue-lashing from Totsuka. If I showed him I was sleepy again, then I might get another reward. And if I were to force that from him, even Totsuka would eventually start treating me like garbage. Although that could also be a thing…

After earnestly considering these matters, I felt bad for making Totsuka worry. And I’m acting like a real creep here! This is why you gotta sleep enough! Anyway, I should spend my time in a healthy way today at least, and not go on a gaming bender. “Well, you’re right. Maybe it’s not a great idea to be doing nothing but gaming… Are you free any time soon, Totsuka?”

I believe I can safely say that never in my life have I invited someone out in such a smart and cool way. I just fell in love with myself. Yeek, Hachiman, hold meee! I had to encourage myself, or I would’ve died from embarrassment and shyness… If he were a girl, this would not only become my dark past, but it would carve itself into my memory like a graphic war documentary. It would be archived in the history of Hachiman as my loser legacy!

Totsuka is probably just about the only boy I can have a friendly conversation with. I think the actual question of whether I could call him a friend requires his approval, but I mentally categorize him as someone extremely close.

Still, inviting him out one-on-one was a pretty high hurdle. Probably not just for me, but for him, too.

If you’re all in a group, and the conversation leads to a big hangout, that’s less to worry about. When it’s an individual versus the majority, the responsibility of that individual is always dispersed in multiple directions. But when it’s one-on-one, all responsibility falls upon you and the other person. Ultimately, this also makes them feel worse for saying no, too. If you’re in a group, “I’ll go if I can” is a pretty safe bet. After that, if you can reach the point when they realize you always say that and never come, so they should stop inviting you, then you can part ways in a truly harmonious manner. That’s my recommendation.

As I was rapidly making excuses to myself, Totsuka’s mouth dropped open, and he blinked his big, wide eyes. Wait, what? What does this reaction mean?

While I was closely examining this response, Totsuka’s mouth kept opening and closing somewhere in between the “ah” and “oh” positions as he flailed his hands. But then he groaned, smacked his hands together, and bowed his head. “Sorry! On weekdays, I have my club… I really can’t skip it… Ah, but in the evening…I have tennis school, and that’s a little late to hang out, huh…? Um, and on the weekend, I have a practice game… Urk…” He was really racking his brain for a gap in his upcoming plans. It wounded my heart deeply to see him caught between a rock and a hard place with his responsibilities as club captain, but I was also happy that he’d agonize this much for me… I just about got teary-eyed for two different reasons. It’s so weird how easily I’ve been crying lately. Next thing I know, I’ll get weepy just from the new episode of PreCure every week…

But I was not the uncomfortable one here—that would actually be Totsuka. I don’t normally invite people out to things, so the one on the receiving end must not know how to deal with it, you know! Let’s take care of that in the future. Specifically, I’ll pin down his schedule about three months in advance…

While making this new oath to myself, I started in on the groundwork to that end. “Oh, another time’s totally fine.” I put a slight bit of emphasis on another time in an attempt to connect to those future prospects.

Totsuka jumped on that, leaning forward with enthusiasm. “Really? You’d better! I’ll text you about it!” He squeezed a fist and looked at me with sparkling eyes, and I floundered a little.

“O-okay…”

Totsuka huffed. “I mean, you hardly ever invite me out! So it’s a promise! Next time! You’d better!” He stuck his finger out at me, and I nodded with a little smile. Then he smiled back and with a hup adjusted his tennis bag on his shoulder. “Well, I’m going to my club, then.”

“Yeah, see you later. Good luck at practice.”

Totsuka ran off, and then when he was a little ways away, he waved with his whole arm, to which I responded with a slightly raised hand. I watched him until he was all the way at the end of the hall, then got moving myself.

I think I’d finally figured out how to do something anyone else took for granted. I was still hyperconscious, overthinking, overstrategizing, over-rationalizing, and overexplaining, though, and I still needed to talk myself into doing it at all.

It’s not like I’d ever had the desire to change or consciously planned to change; it was mostly just how things had turned out. Totsuka’s kindness had carried it most of the way. Still, I was aware that I was actually moving toward a compromise.

But this really had only materialized because it was Saika Totsuka.

In actuality, I hadn’t managed to do anything else right.

I didn’t feel like going home to play games, so I’d wound up here after school with no plans. When you don’t have work, there really is nothing to do. Sleepy as I was, it almost would’ve been better to have had work.

My back hurts, so I guess I’ll just go lie down now, I thought as I turned a corner in the hallway and started down the stairs.

That moment, there came a loud, bellowing laugh that rang out all around me. “Fwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-Hachimaaan! I saw! I heard! I knew you had naught to do anyway!”

I didn’t have to turn around to know whose voice that was.

Which was why I didn’t, and I decided to continue on down the stairs and just go home!

But things don’t always go as planned, especially with Yoshiteru Zaimokuza. It’s what makes him so formidable. So though I should have just ignored him and headed straight home, I instead found myself the subject of coaxing and occasional provoking and eventually tears as a last resort. When Zaimokuza brought me to the Saize at the station, I was still feeling a bit bamboozled. Before I knew it, I was munching on a Milan-style pilaf and slurping at a drink from the drink bar.

Once my stomach was full and I’d gotten comfortable, I sighed. “…Um, hey, I wanna go home.”

“Now, now,” Zaimokuza replied, “in due time. First, we discuss.”

“Discuss what?”

“A light-novel author must have meetings at Saize, after all…”

“Ohhhh.”

Is that right? I thought you normally have them at the publisher’s office or at a café, though… Has he acquired some information from the Internet yet again? Hmm, is that it? Well, it’s not like he was doing nothing; it’s just that his passion was spinning its wheels in vain, pointed in all the wrong directions and not engaged in any kind of real activity. Oh no! I can’t spin any of it into a compliment!

I gave him a look of half exasperation and half ridicule, totaling 100 percent contempt, but the yawn that hijacked my reply somehow made it sound appreciative.

Zaimokuza chuckled smugly like he was pleased, but even he clued in to how hard I was yawning. He pushed his glasses up with a finger and peered into my watery eyes. “What’s this? You seem plagued by the sandman.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a lot of spare time lately, so I’ve been spending all of it gaming. Then I was staying up all night by accident,” I said.

Zaimokuza reacted with a twitch. “Gaming because of spare time, you say? Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable!” He raised his hands as he shrugged; the reaction reminded me of something from a Western movie or show.

Aghhh, I can feel a long speech incoming… Why is it that when our particular field of specialty comes up, we boys will suddenly get chatty, even if we normally don’t talk much…? But you know that afterward, you’ll go home and regret it. Whoa, they definitely thought that was weird, and I was talking superfast, too…

But when in the company of someone he could be a bit at ease with, Zaimokuza didn’t worry about that. He raised his hands high and began to sonorously expatiate. “Games of the video are most pleasurable when one is painfully busy and has absolutely no time at all. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, you say, I know this isn’t the time for video games… Seriously, I have a shit-ton of stuff to do; I can’t be gaming. No really. I’m not lying this time! Making such excuses to no one at all while playing is transgressive, thus bringing the pleasure to its zenith. Source: me. The high when you pull an all-nighter gaming right before exams and then go to school is magnificent!”

“I can’t endorse this, but I can’t deny it, either…” That very morning on the way to school, I’d smirked to myself and thought, Oh dude, I haven’t slept. Oh dude. It’s such a high from nothing at all. Aw dude. I’m such a loser. Dude.

Zaimokuza must have taken my equivocal reply as an affirmative; a smug smirk spread on his face, too. Dude.

“So what game playest thou?” he asked.

“Ah, this one.” Tapping on my phone, I showed him the title and official game website, and Zaimokuza pushed up his glasses. The vaguely nostalgic little “Ahhh” he gave actually made him sound like a normal person. “Ohhh, this one. It sucks when the heroine leaves the party halfway through, huh?” he said, breaking character completely.

The moment I heard that, my scowl could’ve curdled milk. “…What? Hold on, the hell? Are you spoiling me? I wasted so many seeds bumping her stats. Agh, now I don’t even want to play anymore… If you’re gonna write your manuscript, stop playing video games and write…”

“Huh? You haven’t finished it yet? Sorry… Um, er, but…but!! This is the fate of those who fail to play a game upon release! Git gud, scrub!” Zaimokuza belted out a loud and triumphant laugh. Well, at least he apologized at first…

Besides, realistically, you should be prepared for that sort of thing once a game’s been out for a while. And not just games; the same goes for movies and TV shows, too. You can’t read a Japanese history textbook and wail, No way, that general dies?! I got spoiled for the taiga drama! Believe it or not, every Sengoku-era warlord is dead.

But even saying that, every experience is different, depending on the player or viewer, and on the environment the work is being played or viewed in. I would hope people keep these things in mind when enjoying content, being considerate where possible so that everyone can have a good experience!

“I bought it right after release, but it’s just been in my backlog… Komachi was studying for exams, so I felt bad about gaming at home,” I said.

Zaimokuza nodded, his cheeks full of focaccia. “Oh-ho. I see. Now that you mention it, the young maiden was in her third year. So which exam did she take?”

“What? Our school’s. Huh, didn’t I tell you?”

“Hmmmmm?! I have heard no such thing! Ke-ke-ke-ke-ke!”

“Oh, really? I guess we don’t talk about personal stuff. Like university, the future, or family and things like that.”

“I do! I tell you about that all the time! I share with you my dreams for the future and my career! That’s even why I summoned you here today!” Zaimokuza got quite huffy about this, so I asked with a look, So what do you want anyway?

Then with a deliberate-sounding cough (gepkum, gepkum), he suddenly covered his face with one hand. Between his fingers, I saw anguish.

Eventually, he pulled a piece of twice-folded paper out from his pocket with his other hand and held it up between his index and middle fingers. Under the glow of the electric lights, I could see through slightly to the characters on it. “Before, I made a plan together with thee in the library, did I not? I finished the outline for it…”

“Uh-huh…” Oh, that thing we talked about around the beginning of February when he burst into the clubroom and wouldn’t shut up about becoming an editor? He’s always making outlines, huh…? I’ve never once read a completed manuscript…, I thought, but nevertheless, I plucked up the paper he offered and decided to read it right there.

Whereupon, fingerless gloves flashed in front of my eyes and snatched the paper back. “W-wait! ’T-tis embarrassing, so wait until you’re home…”

“The hell, is this a love letter or what? Stop blushing. It’s so gross,” I said, stealing the outline back from him. I had been instructed to wait, so wait I would. I solemnly folded it up and let it gracefully sink to the bottom of my bag. I’d probably forget about it later and never even glance at it. So I had to bury it politely, at least…

Oblivious to my intentions, Zaimokuza seemed satisfied as he watched me carefully putting it away, then gazed off into the distance and sighed. “Thanks to next year’s entrance exams…’tis my final attempt.”

Don’t get me wrong—I definitely thought, His final attempt? Did he even make a first attempt…? But when he said it with that exquisitely stern and manly expression, I had to swallow my skepticism.

This had to be Zaimokuza’s own way of drawing a line for himself.

There’s no better excuse for us to abandon an idea than the term entrance exams. The word employment would probably come to take on the same meaning, too. Dreams, hobbies, clubs, or any of the possibilities that could have been born there would be cleanly melted down to be re-poured into the mold of the adult that society demanded.

This was why he had to do this now; before the world would sweep him away and level him and deprive him, he would challenge, struggle, resist, and try to get a glimpse of becoming someone… And most likely, she would, too.

Lost in thought, I’d fallen entirely silent.

Whatever he thought of that silence, Zaimokuza clapped a hand on my shoulder and gave me a thumbs-up. “Come now, worry not! This is just the final attempt of high school.”

Whoa, really trying to force the cool factor there…

“Uh, it’s not like I’m worried about you…”

“There it iiiis! You tsundere boy!” Snickering as he put a hand to his mouth, dear Zaimokuza was so obnoxious…

But if I tried to argue, he’d respond with something even more incoherent. And so I nodded at him with obvious annoyance like, Yes, yes, you’re completely right and prompted him to keep talking. That little performance just now made me think there was probably still something he wanted to talk about.

And then with a low chuckle, Zaimokuza started talking with maximum manliness. “Make no mistake; I do not intend to succumb. Some things one can write best as a high schooler, others as a university student. The shortest route isn’t always the right one, you know. Even detours are a part of my march to victory!”

That would’ve been much cooler if he were actually writing something right now…, I thought, but, well, I was too nice to say so. He wasn’t technically wrong, after all.

Instead, I would say something else. With a big, wide smile. “Yeah, and there might be things you can write in the gap year after you fail your exams, too.”

“Ha-ha-ha!” Zaimokuza burst out into loud laughter with his face turned to the ceiling, before his expression suddenly turned serious. “…That hits a little too close to home, so let’s not talk about that. There isn’t not a nonzero chance I’ll end up like that, so I don’t want to think about it. Nope, nope, nope.”

I couldn’t help but give a crooked smile. He’s so absolutely useless, it’s kinda reassuring…

Thinking about it, I realized Zaimokuza was one of the few people who’d known me before I’d joined the Service Club. We’d just been a couple of leftovers paired up in gym class, but still, we were in the same boat. If I hadn’t joined the Service Club, maybe I’d have been spending my time after school like this.

…Maybe that actually wouldn’t have been so bad, either.

But every once in a while is enough for me! I don’t have it in me to deal with him more than this!

The morning news had informed me that the plum blossoms were blooming, even in Kanto. The segment had also told me that the winds the other day had been the strongest of that spring. They’d been on and off over the past few days, too. The wind was often warm, signaling that the long winter was almost over.

The god of entrance exams once wrote: “If the eastern wind blows through / then let your fragrance ride them / O sweet blossoms,” and around that time came the day when Komachi’s exam results would be posted.

So the plum trees have blossomed, but no cherry blossoms yet, huh?

But that morning, I was the only one getting antsy, while Komachi was slurping calmly at her tea.

After worrying about what to say to her, all I could come up with was “Um…I’m gonna head out to school…”

But she just shot a wink at me as if to say, I’m totally fine, all good here. “Yeah, Komachi’s gonna go, too… And once I see the results, I’ll text you. Don’t worry.” She must have been trying to make me feel better, since I was even more anxious now than when I’d gotten my own results. Fortunately, her utter composure helped me finally calm down, too.

Ever since the other day, Komachi had suddenly seemed more mature to me. She was still a middle schooler in the eyes of the world, and she was definitely a minor, but she and I both knew now that she was no longer a child.

She’d always had a precocious side to her, or maybe more like street smarts—but now she had composure and serenity on top of that. This was her growth, the proof that she was starting to become independent. …It really is like she’s weaning off her big brother.

I suddenly felt a touch of loneliness, but I shoved it behind a smile and rushed out of the house. When I was just out the front door, I called back to Komachi, “Then see you later.”

“Yeaaah, bye-bye!” Though I couldn’t see her, her voice calling back from the living room sounded carefree.

And then just like always, I rode the same old familiar commute on my squeaky bicycle… If Komachi passed her exam, then would we be going to school together? No, I had the feeling that wasn’t how it would go. Maybe we’d occasionally leave the house at the same time when things happened to line up, but we wouldn’t try to make it happen. Komachi and I would once again construct an appropriate and comfortable distance between us.

With Komachi on my mind, I spent the whole way to school and homeroom with my head in the clouds.

Around the time second period was almost over, I took a look at the clock. I’d been doing nothing else all day, but the needle had finally reached the number I’d been staring at all this time.

Very soon, exam results would be posted…

I breathed a surreptitious sigh, and then finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of second period. I watched the teacher stride out of the classroom, and then I was rotating my shoulders to loosen them up when my cell phone vibrated.

I snatched it up and looked at the screen. Among the push notifications was the line You have a new message, plus Komachi’s name. A flash of fear crossed my heart. This message would tell me if Komachi had passed or not, and I hesitated to open it.

But I steeled myself anyway and, with trembling fingers, moved to tap the screen.

But before I could, a graceful beast dashed before me. Her Thoroughbred tail fluttered behind her, leaving a vivid blue streak as the wind of her passing whooshed by.

With a start, I followed it with my eyes to see Saki Kawasaki had already raced off. She’d probably gotten a message from her little brother Taishi at just about the same moment. I stood up as well and ran out of the classroom.

The two of us were usually on the edges of the classroom; with both of us suddenly bolting, everyone erupted into noise, asking each other what had just happened.

“What? What, what?! Is something happening?! We gonna go?! We going, too?! We’re going!” I could hear Tobe getting all worked up behind me. But now was not the time to be turning back. The break was only ten minutes. Kawasaki, with her elegant strides, was already far ahead of me in the hallway.

She was probably headed up to the front gates, where the exam results had been posted. Of course, that was where I was going, too. It took me less than a minute to reach the growing crowd.

The exam takers had already converged there, but I still managed to find Komachi right away. It seemed she noticed me, too.

Unlike her sweaty, winded brother, Komachi seemed incredibly calm as she raised her hand, strolling up to me.

“Oh, Bro. I passed.” She said just that with a nonchalant look.

It was anticlimactic for me, too. I was panting after the run, but I let out a deep sigh that helped me get my breathing back under control. What followed was a relief like exhaustion that gradually spread through me.

“Oh…” That was all that finally came out of my mouth. I was so happy, I wanted to gush at Komachi and start jumping around, but she seemed so unsurprised by the results that I felt like I should be the same.

I actually wanted to rub her on the head, but she was too old for that now. As her big bro—the elder, more mature sibling—I’d pull myself together, as was appropriate for her new growth.

I tried to think of a slightly more dignified way to congratulate her—the sort of thing an adult should say.

“I’m glad… I am. I really am glad.” But the only words I could find were incredibly clumsy and awkward. I truly am a hopeless big brother. I’m getting fed up with myself, honestly. This guy hasn’t grown at all, compared with his little sister. I’m always playing with words, and yet I can’t put together the right thing to say when it counts.

Komachi had to be pretty fed up with me; I looked at her.

If I couldn’t say it quite right in words, then I’d celebrate her with my best smile, at least. The problem was that my smile isn’t a very pretty one, but hopefully, she would ignore that part.

She didn’t. She just gazed into my eyes with a hint of warmth.

“Yeah, I’m glad, too. Really…,” she agreed, her big eyes twinkling in the light of the sun. She sniffed and trailed off. When she let out a long breath, it was shaking, and she sucked in more air to hold it back. When she exhaled again, I heard the beginning of a sob. “I’m really, really…glad… I’m so glad!”

Komachi sprang forward and slammed into me, roughly burying her head into the lapels of my blazer. The damp breaths on my skin hiccuped irregularly, then turned vocal in a way that felt like a punch to the gut.

How long had it been since I’d last seen Komachi bawling like this? This was nothing like how she cried when she was little. She was so mature this morning, though, I thought with a wry smile, then suddenly realized something.

Ahhh, that’s not it. She hadn’t been calm at all; she’d just been making an effort to act that way. She’d been smothering her anxiety and worries to keep me or our parents from worrying, or maybe to avoid the stress of any concerned questions. The answer looming before her had been mercilessly clear, but she’d tried to accept it nevertheless, desperately trying to stand on her trembling legs.

From the bottom of my heart, I was truly glad she was rewarded.

My hand reached out to Komachi on its own. I lightly patted her head and ruffled up her hair, and Komachi dissolved into tears yet again.

“Wahhhhh, Big Broooo, I’b zo glaaaad!” She was weeping like a heartbroken celebrity as I patted her back to soothe her.

It seemed she would need a little more time to wean off me. And for me to wean off her. Sooner or later, whether I liked it or not, Komachi would become a proper adult and a wonderful woman. Probably sooner.

But until that time came, maybe she’d let me be her big brother for a while longer…

As I was comforting Komachi, I heard Saki Kawasaki’s sharp voice behind me.

“Taishi!”

“Sis, I did it!”

When I turned my head to glance back, I saw Taishi. As he walked towards us, he was holding up over his head a set of the documents they give to the students who passed.

Taishi’s proud (and quite loud) voice reminded me of that old classic Rocky. Adrian!!

That must have reminded Komachi there were others around, as she suddenly snapped out of it and peeled herself off me. She rubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her uniform. Well, she wouldn’t want people she knew to see her bawling. I gave her a crooked smile and cover behind my back.

That was when Taishi discovered me and came over my way. Kawasaki was all alone in the corner, face up to the sky, occasionally bringing her hands to her eyes. Mm-hmm, Big Sis is glad…

As I was appreciating the heart of Kawasaki and feeling all the feels, Taishi came up in front of me to pump a celebratory fist. “I did it, Bro!”

“Don’t call me Bro—I’ll kill you. Just use my name. You did it, congrats. Also, who are you?”

“Thank you very much! I’m Taishi Kawasaki! Um…Hikigaya!” His broad grin had become somewhat tougher than before, and he had the facial features of a grown man. It made me want to celebrate him in a manly way.

“…That’s great. All right, time to throw you into the air. In celebration.”

“By yourself, Bro?! I don’t think it works that way! That’s a German suplex! It’s concrete underneath!! I’ll die!” Taishi thrust both hands out in front of him and backed away. That was a very hard no. I offered a crooked smile, about to say that it was a joke.

“Ohhh, bumps? Yo, for real? We’re doing it, right?!” But before I could, Tobe popped in.

Celebration was a great excuse to mess around, and he wanted to take it. Behind him, I could see Yamato, Ooka, and the guys. There was also a smattering of others from our class, and other classes, too. Oh, and what about Hayama…? I scanned the area and found him smiling and chatting with a group of teachers. I could infer that he was mediating for the rest of us—since we’d left the school building, even if it was on a break.

You’re wasting your time showing that kind of consideration to Tobe and the guys…

Tobe hooted (“Whoooo!”) as he led Yamato and Ooka, and they all circled around Taishi and started throwing him up like a festival palanquin.

I took the opportunity to turn back to Komachi, who was still hiding behind my back. “Komachi. Go tell your school. And Mom and Dad.”

“Yeah…” She was still red-eyed and sniffling, but she clicked away on her phone and started calling the school first.

While I listened to them, I checked the clock. I really should get back to the classroom now…, I was thinking as I looked over to Hayama wheedling the teachers, when I caught sight of Yuigahama sliding by them and trotting up to us.

“Komachi-chan!”

Komachi lifted her head, quickly finished her phone call, and rushed over. “Yuiii!”

I’d thought Komachi had finally calmed down, but the moment she saw Yuigahama, she burst into overflowing tears again. She leaped on the older girl without any hesitation at all, sob-sobbing. I almost expected her to cry, S-Straw Hats… at being treated like one of the crew.

…Wait, is she crying more now than she did with me? Is that just my imagination?

As Komachi reported her results, bawling all the while, Yuigahama nodded back at every word and hugged her tight, then brought Komachi’s face up to press their foreheads together and beam at her. “Congrats… That’s great… You really worked hard… I’m so happy for you!” she whispered, then finished with the brightest smile.

Face still wet with tears, Komachi gave her a sunburst of a smile in return.

“We’ve got to tell Yukinon, too!” Yuigahama said.

“Okay!” Komachi nodded cheerfully, taking out her phone. But then she stopped. “Uuurk, I’m crying too much. I can’t see the screen…”

“Ahhh… I’ll do it.” Smiling, Yuigahama started making the call. She held the phone like she was taking a selfie and framed herself and Komachi in the front camera. I think it was a kind of video chat thing. She probably wanted to show her Komachi’s face. …I wonder if Yukinoshita actually knows how to do that with her phone.

As I was worrying about this, the trio muddled through and finally started a conversation through the screen. Komachi smooshed her face right up against the phone screen as she burst into tears again. “Yukinoooo!”

So much for calling our parents…

Our parents, especially our dad, would certainly be quite worried. I didn’t want their imaginations running wild with reasons she might not have called and then getting disappointed… So I’d take it upon myself to make the report. But Dad would be like, I wanted to hear it straight from Komachi, though… Agh! Such an old block off my chip!

And so…

Dear Mother

Cherry blossoms bloom

Regards

I stayed with Komachi until she left, but even once I was back in class, I still felt kind of restless. The hours passed in a distant haze. The confirmation of Komachi’s passing had so utterly filled my heart with relief, most everything the teacher said in class went in one ear and out the other.

I’m so glad…, I thought. One, then two classes went by as I ruminated and reflected on this happiness. I’d been taught since childhood to chew my food thoroughly when eating, so I could savor one piece of happy news two or three times. Like a cow.

Even once the bell called ding-dong-bing-bong to tell me lunch was here, I didn’t feel hungry. Normally, I’d dash over to the school store whether I wanted to or not in order to secure a decent amount of food, but that day, I felt calm enough to take my time.

Wondering what I should eat, I was standing up to go when there was a knock on the door at the front of the classroom, and then it creaked open.

Maybe you’d knock for the teachers’ room or clubrooms, but who knocks to come into a regular classroom…? I was thinking suspiciously when Yukino Yukinoshita appeared.

The unusual visitor caused a momentary buzzing in the classroom. But even though Yukinoshita was the center of attention, her expression didn’t change at all as she stated her business. “Is Kawasaki here?”

“…Huh? M-me?” Kawasaki said, voice cracking slightly. She pointed to her own face and blinked. Yukinoshita replied with a nod.

They were already both pretty enough to draw eyes, and this increased the attention on them even further. Kawasaki scowled and blushed bright red as she trotted quickly toward Yukinoshita. Everyone’s curiosity was unbearable for her.

The pair launched straight into a discussion by the door. Hmm…Kawasaki, maybe it’s because you’re embarrassed, but I can’t hear your voice at all… Yukinoshita was matching her volume, and the near whispering made their conversation seem extra-secret. I couldn’t tell you what it was about. Others around seemed to be perking up their ears as well, but judging from their reactions, they couldn’t hear it, either.

Well, my guess is that it was about the prom. It’d be rude to try to eavesdrop on a discussion when I had no plans to get involved.

Leaving my seat for real this time, I headed for the door at the rear of the classroom. On the way, I noticed the side by the window was quieter than usual, and it drew me to look.

There, I saw Yuigahama watching Yukinoshita and Kawasaki. She’d probably figured out what Yukinoshita was here for, too. That was why she wasn’t saying anything.

Miura seemed to find this unusual. “Yuiii. You’re not going?” she asked brusquely, although there was no real bite to it. I got the odd sense that she was trying to be considerate. I think it was probably a high-context remark, with a lot of meaning expressed in relatively few words. Yuigahama understood it well enough.

“Hmm, yeah.” Yuigahama paused like she was considering a moment, but then she smiled and replied, “I don’t have to go talk with them. She’ll probably tell me after if she needs something. Besides, I’m going to the clubroom after this, so it’s okay.”

“Hmm?” Miura’s reply was so vague, it was hard to tell if she was convinced as she twirled her curly hair. Then she and Ebina exchanged glances, both looking kind of puzzled.

Well, I could understand their reactions. They were in slightly different positions from before, so there would be some confusion.

But I was sure the reason those positions had changed was because they were making progress, even if just a little.

With a sidelong glance at Yuigahama and her friends, I left the classroom.

I picked out some random leftover items from the school store and, armed with a Max can, sat down in my usual spot. With the calls from the tennis club doing their noon practice and the cheeps of warbling white-eyes in my ears, I treated myself to a slightly later lunchtime than usual.

The wind was still chilly to be eating outside, but I didn’t really feel it. Maybe I had the afterglow of Komachi’s success to thank for that.

We’d probably be having a fancy dinner to celebrate, so I could get away with a light lunch. I scarfed down a couple of buns with toppings and followed that with a nice, waaarm Max can.

As my mind drifted into outer space, I heard light footsteps and humming behind me. This humming…, I thought, and I turned around to see it was Isshiki.

When she saw me, her lips parted slightly, and she jerked back a bit in surprise. “Oh, you really were way out here.”

I suspected I’d just been insulted, but that was par for the course from Isshiki. Instead, I ignored it and asked her business. “Mm, hey, what’s up?”

“Oh, no, I just had something to talk about…,” she said, but right as she reached my side to sit down, she paused. “…Wait, why aren’t you in your classroom? I went all the way there! It was sooo embarrassing to ask if you were there, you know!” The mere mention of it was enough to bring it all flooding back, I guess; she went bright red and yanked at my shoulder.

And the whining didn’t stop there. “And that wasn’t even the worst of it! Then Tobe started loudly asking everyone! He kept saying I was looking for you and asking, like, ‘Anyone know where he is? Whoo!’ Can you believe it?!”

Whoa, I totally can… I don’t know if he’d go whoo there, but that was a very Tobe thing to do. If he meant well by it, then I couldn’t be too mad, but in his case, a certain amount of this would be about showing off to Ebina: I may not look like it, but I’m actually a good guy, see? So it did actually piss me off, because I just kinda suck.

“I mean…sorry? That’s not my fault; it’s Tobe’s. So then was it like, Hayama stepped in to help you?” I said, anticipating what would follow.

Isshiki snatched her hand away from my shoulder and waved her hands side to side. “Oh, no, Miura snapped and told him to shut up before he could.”

Oh, that routine, huh? I can imagine that, too…

As the scene played out in my mind, Isshiki added, “So Hayama said, ‘Why don’t you ask Yuigahama?’ and the result is, here I am.”

“Hmm, I see… Anyway, did you need something?”

“Yes, I wanted to ask you a favor,” Isshiki repeated, straightening her posture and daintily hugging her knees. She cocked her head, and then she was suddenly looking up at me. Her slim fingers plucked weakly at my sleeve, her pale hair swaying in the drifting breeze, and her brown eyes were dewy. “Um…so will you…help me?”

“Not happening. I just don’t want to do this prom.”

Your cunning Irohasu attacks won’t work on me anymore… And yet I still had to turn my face away. If I looked her in the eye, I might agree on impulse, so I really had no choice!

And besides, since I’d already refused involvement once, it didn’t feel great to flip-flop so easily. If I gave in now, it’d be like I caved to her cuteness…

That would just be too impure, too faithless to the one who had committed her intention to this. To the one who had hung her identity on this, the one who had made a clean decision of her own accord. It would be too insincere. I should at least have dignity in my response. I’d never agreed to help with the prom in the first place. If it was her personal decision and not one for the club, then my answer really wouldn’t change.

But sometimes words will completely change their meaning depending on who hears them. I didn’t know why Isshiki was smiling with satisfaction after my negative answer. Lowering her eyelids dreamily, she put a gentle hand to her chest, and when her chin came up again, she murmured like a little bird singing a fairy tale, “Or so he said, but he seemed very glad to have me relying on him.”

“…Do I?” I made the most aggravated expression possible. If my intention wouldn’t get through in words, then I’d use my eyes. No choice but to speak with the eyes.

But Isshiki’s reaction was an eye for an eye (or something), as she suddenly turned serious, too. Those wide, sparkling pools of innocence suddenly narrowed, and the light within them reminded me of a blade. “…Should I answer that honestly?” she said. It freaked me out a little.

“Huh? Whoa, don’t scare me like this. C’mon, stop.” Time to change the topic! “Yukinoshita’s handling things fine, right? Is there some kind of problem? Ahhh, if the problem is that actually you don’t really like each other, then don’t tell me, okay? It hurts to hear that stuff.”

“Um, I actually like Yukino quite a bit. Just so you know,” Isshiki whined. As she went on, her expression turned a little morose. “…Well, whether she likes me or not is a separate question. If you’re asking if we’re friends, it’s kinda…y’know.”

Oh, I think Yukinon likes you, Irohasu… And quite a bit, too… But as they say, leaving things unsaid is a grace like a lily—er, wait, like a flower. I was sure she’d come to sense that herself anyway.

As I was earnestly pondering such matters, Isshiki’s face jerked up. She wagged a finger at me as she filled me in. “Also, we genuinely are making great progress. I knew she was really good at this, but actually working together, it’s like…I don’t get why she’s not the student council president. I wish I could fire the vice president and have her with us forever.”

“So the one getting fired isn’t you…? I think the vice president is doing his best, too. Not like I know.” If he’d just stop flirting with the clerk, then he’d be one of the most diligent members of the team… Far as I could tell anyway. So stop flirting and do your damn job. C’mon. Stop screwing around and work.

Isshiki’s replies were giving me a sense of envy, jealousy, and admiration all at the same time, so that meant Yukinoshita was demonstrating her talents and acumen in full. With her competence and experience level, that was easy enough to imagine. I could also easily envision what could well come after that.

“If you’re all getting along and things are going okay, then that’s fine… But stuff always happens. Even if it is going well,” I muttered.

“Pardon?” Isshiki tilted her head and twisted her lips, like, What the heck is he talking about? Her eyes were unimpressed.

That’s an irritating way to ask a question… But it did make sense. She hadn’t been student council president during the whole mess with the cultural festival.

So she didn’t know anything about how sometimes that smoothness came at a cost.

Actually, none of the people planning this prom even knew about that—Yuigahama wasn’t over there with them this time around. She’d made Yukinoshita promise not to push herself, but if things got down to the wire, Yukinoshita could find ways to push herself anyway. She could lie to herself and say, I can manage this or It’s just until I finish that. Someone had to be there who could pick up on that and stop her. If not, then everything would fall apart.

I should tell that to Isshiki.

“I wouldn’t call this advice, but try not to rely too much on Yukinoshita. She can do most things, so it’s easy to depend on her. But if she works herself sick, everything grinds to a halt. She wears out ridiculously fast, so sometimes she’ll push herself too far without a second thought… Anyway. Keep it in mind,” I said, trying not to sound too intrusive. I wasn’t going to be helping with this project. I shouldn’t be butting in too much, but I figured that wasn’t crossing a line. Isshiki was sharp; she’d get it.

After a bit of silence, Isshiki hmm’d in acknowledgment and said, “…I see.” Then she flicked me a questioning glance. “I’ve thought so for quite a while, but you…”

Huh? What? What…? I’m getting nervous… I cringed under Isshiki’s skeptical gaze.

But her pouted lips suddenly broke into a smile. “…are overprotective.” She had a little smile, though it had a bit of a mocking edge and a detached coldness. Then she blinked two, three times, widening her eyes again to communicate that it was a joke.

I found something next to me to look at, until I was finally able to let out the breath I’d been holding. “Uhhh, I don’t think I am…,” I squeaked.

Isshiki put her index finger to her jaw and tilted her head. “So then what do you call it? You’re a big brother type?”

“Yeah, maybe that.”

“So you are into younger girls?” Isshiki asked, leaning way forward.

“No…,” I replied, pulling away by the same amount.

She mock-recoiled and teased, “I don’t know about that.”

“I dunno what you’re thinking here—you just get like that when you’ve got a little sister. It’s a habit. I mean, I just wind up acting how I do with my sister,” I explained, sticking my hands in my pockets to look cool. Without pulling away or leaning forward, I stood straight and tall. Being a big brother is a habit, okay…?

Isshiki let out an exasperated-sounding hah-ha—half a sigh and half laughter. A frighteningly quick change of attitude. Anyone but me would have missed it. “I think you should stop doing that,” she said coldly.

“O-okay…”

Only a heartbeat after she neatly cut me down, she was sitting with her knees drawn up and her elbows on her knees, chin in hands. She gazed out into the school courtyard, apparently bored. “No girl will be glad to be treated like your little sister.” As her somewhat lonely words joined the cold wind and vanished, they felt real and personal.

Maybe she’d experienced something similar before. There had to be older boys who liked her; it wouldn’t be strange for her to get treated that way. Though I couldn’t understand how you could place an ultra-cunning devilish imp in the same category as a little sister. My little sister, Komachi Hikigaya, is the little sister of the world. There has been no Komachi before Komachi, and no Komachi after Komachi. I don’t know any little sisters who surpass Komachi, and my little sister is only Komachi. I mean I’ve been preaching that a sister’s all you need for my past three lives.

No, wait. If she was the little sister of the world, would Komachi have other boys saying she was like a little sister to them…?

I dunno about that… Some murky feelings swirled around inside me at that, so I just went ahead and said it. “Well, yeah. A guy who goes and calls himself your big brother is obviously gonna be creepy. And super-cringey. Criminal, even.”

“Huh? …Okaaay. Well, it is creepy, though…” Isshiki’s eyes darted toward me. She seemed kinda weirded out: like, What the heck is this creep talking about?! But then she cleared her throat and gathered herself. “That’s not what I mean. It’s like…you’re not being treated like a girl, right? Wouldn’t it kinda bother you if a girl told you you’re like a big brother?”

“Uh, I am actually a big brother, sooo not really…”

“Ahhh, maybe it’s different for boys. Oh, then…” Something seemed to strike her, and she gave a little hem. Suddenly, she closed her eyes to take a shallow breath. She was just like an actress getting into character before a performance. I waited on standby for Irohasu as she slowly opened her eyes and gave me a blank expression. Ready…lights, camera, action!

Isshiki pasted a polite but forced smile on her face, then immediately slid her gaze slightly away. “Ah, ah-ha-ha… You’re kind of like a dad. It’s like…um, you know… Like, I’m always grateful to you?”

This report was a shock to Hachiman.

Yeah, that, uh, that hit me hard. I had to characterize myself like Kong Ming from Yokoyama’s Three Kingdoms manga and read it out like a narration in my head or I would break. The saddest part was that every word, every hint of body language, screamed that she was trying to avoid being rude or hurting me. Wait, if you’re saying that to a teenager, that’s definitely an insult, isn’t it? Even if I were thirty and someone a few years younger than me said that, it would still hurt!

Her act was flawless. So? she asked me silently.

I nodded back stiffly. “…That’d hit real hard. Feels like you’re in a completely different category. Makes me wonder if I smell like old people. I’d want to die… Yeah. I’d die.”

“I dunno about the smell, but yeah, that’s the feeling. The different category thing.” Isshiki folded her arms and nodded. And then as if to say, One more piece of advice, she stuck up her index finger and continued, “And when a guy says you’re ‘like a little sister,’ he’ll come on to you later and say he ‘can’t think of you like a sister anymore.’ All this comes as a set.”

“Whoa, yikes… The hell…? What do they think a little sister is…? A little sister is a holy, inviolable sanctuary… They should really reconsider the concept of little sisters and think about what they’ve done…”

“That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting, but I can’t complain…,” Isshiki grumbled with a dull look in her eyes. “But anyway!” Putting her hands on her waist and posing like she was ready to begin a lecture, she began earnestly admonishing me. “In the future, remember not to go around telling girls they’re like a sister.”

But then she froze right there and zipped backward with a hand to her mouth. “Wait! Were you planning to say ‘I can’t think of you as a little sister anymore’ later to try to seduce me? Because if you were it would have no effect on my heart whatsoever so please come back and try again later I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it! I won’t say it, okay?”

After saying all that in one big long go, Isshiki was winded. She took a big breath in and out, and her exhalation and my sigh came at the same time.

“What’s with that attitude? Geez you didn’t hear a word I said!” Isshiki puffed up her cheeks in a grumpy pout.

Uhhh, I mean, you were talking really fast, and it’s always going to end with I’m sorry anyway… Of course I’m not gonna actually listen.

Isshiki gave an extremely disgruntled sniff at my weariness and turned away. “Well, whatever. Just help out with the event, please,” she said. Kinda harsh for someone trying to ask a favor.

“Uh…huh? Wait, like I said…” But after how sulky she sounded, I couldn’t find the words to refuse, and I trailed off.

In that brief silence, Iroha Isshiki brought her lips close to my ear to whisper, “Because I’m not your little sister.”

That sweetly charming sentence sounded nothing like her earlier manner, but you could feel the strong resolve behind her words.

Then suddenly, quicker than I could react, her hands swept briskly over her skirt, and she stood with a grin. The way her skirt trailed behind her, the graceful movements of her slim fingers, and the sparkles of the sand that spilled off her skirt all moved away from me, and the crisp rhythm of her steps reminded me of a waltz.

“I’ll be waiting in the student council room after school, ’kay?!” she said once she was a few steps away, fluttering her hand in a wave before she started off again, humming all the while.

She was too distant now for me to say anything back, too far for me to chase after her. She was a whole level or two beyond me; how could I possibly think of her as a little sister?

A reexamination of our views on this matter is in order. That is the underclassman of the world: Iroha Isshiki…

After school, I was hauling my legs along the hallway to the student council room.

Since I’d failed to decline Isshiki’s request then, I had no choice but to go now. I really didn’t have another option, but my legs got heavier as I wondered how I could possibly face them now. But the student council room wasn’t that far, and I quickly arrived.

I knocked, and the door immediately opened with Isshiki’s face popping out from behind it. “Oh, it’s you. You’re laaate!”

“Ah, yeah, sorry.” I had been dragging my heels, so I offered an apology.

Once I’d been welcomed into the student council room, I found Yukinoshita and Yuigahama inside. I couldn’t see any of the other student council members around, but maybe they were working elsewhere.

Yukinoshita would have asked Yuigahama for help first, so I wasn’t really confused by Yuigahama’s presence. She must have heard from Isshiki that I would come, though; she gave me a little wave and a “Heeey.”

As for Yukinoshita, she was not expecting to see me. I heard doubt and confusion in her voice as she murmured, “Hikigaya…”

“Hey. So, like…Isshiki asked me to come. And here I am. To help.” Judging from Yukinoshita’s reaction, Isshiki hadn’t passed along the word. Heeeey! Irohasuuu! Reports, communication, and discussion are important! Arriving uninvited is painful for all involved, okay…?

But despite Yukinoshita’s confusion, it seemed my presence was not unwanted. In fact, she smiled awkwardly, almost apologetically. “I see. I’m sorry. We’re a little shorthanded today, so this is honestly a help. Thank you.”

“Oh, I just have the spare time, so I don’t mind.”

Well, I’m sure this rushing and heavy work will eat up that time…, I thought.

Yukinoshita put her hand to her chin with a hmm, opening her mouth in a manner that was neither rushed nor heavy. “I assume you’ll be having some kind of celebration with your family for Komachi today? I do plan to help us wrap up as quickly as possible, but if there’s anything else I need to know about, then I can make adjustments.”

My mouth hung open a little. She’s really being calm about this… I thought this place would be a bit more tense… Confusion made its way into my voice as I replied, “O-okay… Well, my dad gets home late anyway, so you don’t need to worry about it too much… Finishing earlier is always better, though.”

“Indeed. Well then, let’s get started.” With a lighthearted smile, Yukinoshita offered me a chair next to Yuigahama. When I took a seat, she slid a stack of papers over to me. “Before you get started, I’ll go over the event outline with you.” Then she made a fan of the sheets and began reading aloud the details.

I was also hearing a tune in the background. Glancing over, I saw our dear Isshiki humming along as she poured tea, discovered a package of chocolates, and popped one in her mouth.

…Well, she knows what’s going on already, so there’s no need for her to listen. And she does get the job done in the end…

“There’s a checklist along with the proposal documents, so if you could take a look at it,” Yukinoshita said.

I skimmed briefly over the documents. From what I could see, they seemed to assume the prom format would be somewhat scaled down compared with what we’d seen on that foreign TV show.

They would decorate with flower arrangements and balloon art and stuff, securing the front half of the gym along with the stage to make a dance floor, while in the back they’d set out some tables and chairs where people could eat and chat.

And as for the itinerary: It would kick off with a fancy toast, followed by remarks from the student council president and the captains of all the clubs. Once they’d got everyone worked up, they’d put on some club music, and dance time would begin. A live rock band would burst in at one point, and we’d have a “public confession” event somewhere in there, and then eventually the prom king and prom queen would be chosen, and then time for slow dancing. At the end, everyone would come together for a wild party! There was no set time for chatting with friends, so everyone had to use the chat space at their own discretion…

I see, I see—yeah, I don’t get it. Partly because I don’t really know anything about proms. But I also don’t do anything with clubs or dancing or that whole culture. This makes no sense. What the heck is a public confession? A new form of execution?

I’d ask or investigate the stuff I didn’t know later; right now, I’d just sweep over the parts I did understand.

“This is gonna cost a lot of money.” That was my first thought.

Yukinoshita slid a piece of paper over to me. “I’ve made a trial balance sheet. The estimates have already been filed, so go look at those, if you’re concerned.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. You should be the one checking the numbers. Actually, I’m more curious about where you got the funds. Didn’t we use up all the budget with that free bulletin before?”

“The actual event is in March, so we’ve arranged for charges to be made the following month. That way, we can treat it as part of next year’s budget. For items that have to be paid in advance, we’ll borrow money elsewhere to handle the bill later,” Yukinoshita said with a casual shrug.

Me, I was still a little skeptical. The deadline for the student council to close their books was the end of February, so passing the related costs of a March event onto the next semester was understandable. But more importantly, haven’t they already established the budget for next year…? I was thinking suspiciously when the good old dancing queen Iroha Isshiki-chan started serving tea for some reason. She was still humming. I see she doesn’t have any other work to do…

“So maaaybe we’ll be cheaping out on some stuff next year, but what can you do?” said Isshiki.

“Is that okay…?” Yuigahama asked with a strained smile as she accepted her paper cup of tea.

Isshiki hugged the serving tray to her chest, tilting her head inquisitively. “Yeah, but I figure nobody’ll notice, right? I don’t think anyone even knows what the student council does.”

“T-true… Ahh, yeah, I’d never notice, either. I don’t really know, after all…” Yuigahama really did her best to consider the issue, but eventually she set her paper cup back down on the table with a tup and weakly hung her head.

Ahhh, Isshiki argued her down, huh…?

Isshiki suddenly stepped on the gas, pumping a fist high into the air. “That’s why we gotta do it! We’re picking the perfect moment to do something high budget! It’ll give the impression we’re actually doing stuff—we can get away with anything!”

Nothing she’s saying is wrong, and that’s what makes it so terrible… Who could present some harsh but honest advice to her at a time like this? I wondered, looking over at Yukinoshita.

Unfortunately, she was occupied. She had a thick file folder marked Accounting Documents in one arm as she flipped through it with a finger, checking it against her computer screen. “At this stage, I’ve included the full range of expenses in the calculated total, but many elements will be dropped as we go along, so I doubt it will greatly influence next year’s budget. In fact, there’s been a surplus every year, so I believe that may be enough to absorb it.” She closed the file folder with a tump and smiled, a hint of pride on her face.

This isn’t good. I do not like where this is going… I had the feeling this shrewd scumbag / competent airhead partnership would give rise to an indescribable chemistry. Things were going well, but I wasn’t so sure of this…

To reduce the anxiety-inducing parts of this proposal, I decided to do a peer review of the trial balance sheet. As I was checking all the billed items, suddenly a question crossed my mind. “You don’t need to include an estimate for the costumes? Everyone’s dressing up, right?”

“That’s right. Attire will be up to the attendees. On our end, we’ll just be mediating with a rental company.” With a finger, Yukinoshita indicated a catalog of rental costumes—not to me, of course, but to Yuigahama.

Indeed, she understands very well. I’m not interested in this stuff…

Meanwhile, Miss Gahama was flipping through the catalog with stars in her eyes.

Girls usually would have some admiration for dresses like this, and I think they’d want to get fancy for the party given the chance. But what about the boys? According to certain Internet discourse, at publisher parties where you find a lot of manga artists, it’s mostly the women who dress up, while the men are often in street clothes. They’ll even show up in sweats.

“…Will everyone wear stuff like this?” I asked, with the implication I’d kinda rather not…

Isshiki caught my drift. “Well, I’m sure some people won’t want to dress up. We’ll recommend fancy dress, but we won’t enforce it as a dress code.”

“But everyone will probably do it, in the end. Either the excitement will get them into the idea, or they’ll give in to the pressure to conform… There’s no need to expressly put it in writing. That will only invite criticism,” Yukinoshita added with a lifeless huff. Isshiki grinned.

Her smile is pretty, physically, and so is she. Why do I feel terror before anything else…?

Quietly turning away from both their smiles, I dropped my gaze to the trial balance sheet in my hands. Frankly speaking, I couldn’t make any judgments about the validity of the figures and sums without more information about where they came from, but everything arranged so far was basically covered. And any additional expenses discovered during the process of planning the event would be secured just in case under the headings Reserve Funds and Miscellaneous Expenses.

“…Well, I don’t see any problems,” I said. “If you exclude the fact that you’re missing an allocation for personnel costs.”

“Yes, thank you for checking. Well then, instead of signing your approval, could you draw a large circle around that item?”

If Isshiki was going to smile at me so brightly and cheerfully, I had no choice but to smile as well.

Yukinoshita was giggling, too, but eventually she settled down and reached out to the balance sheet in my hands and pointed to some of the figures there. “This isn’t set in stone. For the catering and related costs, we’re switching from the business used for past appreciation parties to a cheaper place, and we’re waiting for estimates from various vendors for that. For the decorative flowers, we’ll be combining that cost with the bouquets the clubs will be giving to graduates and placing the order in bulk. We’re in the process of negotiating a discount.”

“O-okay… I see…” At this rate, the accountant will be on the chopping block, right after the vice president… I felt like Yukinoshita’s business skills had improved, even compared with before—you could even call her Yukino Yukinoshita RX now. I was really starting to think, I guess we can just let her handle everything on her own, huh? Even Isshiki was nodding like, …Let’s leave this to RX.

Hmmmm, I think the student council president’s job may be in jeopardy, too…

Anyway, from what I was seeing of the documents they’d put together, it was clear that actually making the prom happen was a more realistic ambition than I’d initially thought. Apparently, this is actually possible, according to real logic… What remained was to deal with things reason wouldn’t help with. This would probably be the hardest part.

With deadlines, submission dates, schedules, and their ilk, reason will not work. They possess no human hearts. I can see the scene in my mind’s eye: “Wellll, frankly it’d be pretty difficult,” “Let’s do our best!” “I’m just gonna say it—there’s no time,” “Let’s do our best!” “I’m sorry, there’s no way,” “Let’s do our best!” “…Okay.” It’s rare but often happens, and when you hit that point, the only way to deal is to slow down the flow of time by moving at the speed of light. And this is already in sci-fi territory…

Right, so as far as the schedule goes, the main thing I’m worried about is… I picked up the next page, the schedule. Yukinoshita had probably made it herself, since it came with a checklist and filled-in cells for completed items.

It provided a clear visualization of progress so far. Everything around the beginning was filled in, but the further you got, the more white space there was. Seems like we’ve still got a long way to go…

But from another angle, this meant they’d finished the planning and drafting of the trial balance sheet and everything in just these past few days, and that alone would be worthy of commendation. It was kinda freaking me out, honestly…

I mean, it’s crazy how much of this sheet is filled. How hard are you working on this? The completed sections all seemed like pretty difficult issues, too.

For example, one item in the first section: Proposal/approval of the prom plan by school admin and parents’ association. With this done, you might as well say most of their problems had been dealt with. There was an asterisk with the note *Informal consent only, full approval at a later date via mid-project report, but if they’d already secured it through informal talks, then they basically had it in the bag… It’s in the bag! Ga-ha-ha!

After that was budget calculation, production of the event schedule, general announcement, song selection, setting up a website, and a meeting of the club captains and everything else, all of it checked off as complete or completion expected. For being at the planning stage, you could call this the best possible start.

What remained was the practical production tasks like making decorations, plus day-of tasks such as setting up the venue—all things that took time and physical labor, and most of which couldn’t be started until we were closer to the event.

Well, with a lot of this stuff, you won’t know until you actually do it. If I’m gonna pick out the shakiest elements, this’ll be it, I guess… This was also probably the stuff I’d be sent off to work on.

As I made some general guesses about my own future tasks, I was reading it over again from the top when my eyes caught on a certain heading. “Hmm, ‘General Announcement.’ You already announced we’re doing a prom? I didn’t know.” The surprise I felt was a fresh and unfamiliar kind, and the remark came out sounding kind of impressed.

A second later, the air in the student council room suddenly froze. Everyone was looking at me like they were eyeing some strange animal from a distance.

The most blatant one was from Isshiki. She was staring at me like I’d just started speaking another language. “Huh? What’re you talking about?”

“Huh? You haven’t told anyone, right? …Right?” I turned the question to Yuigahama. She would have roughly the same amount of information about the prom as me.

But she twisted around and got fidgety, her lips barely moving as she muttered, “…I know about it.”

“Huh? Why? Am I getting bullied?”

“You’re not getting bullied! I’m the one wondering why you don’t know… Oh, wait.” Something seemed to suddenly strike her, and she rummaged around to pull out her phone.

Isshiki soon followed suit and grabbed her own phone with a cry of understanding. “Ahhh!”

““Look!”” they both said, shoving their phones at me simultaneously to show me the same screen. Along with an unfamiliar noise (liiine!), on their screens was the messaging app everyone knows: LINE.

“We made an account for the prom committee, and we’ve been using it to send out information. It’s the medium kids our age use the most, so it’s our primary vector,” Yukinoshita explained, and it finally made sense to me.

High schoolers these days are all connected on LINE, so that would be the fastest way to notify them… No wonder I didn’t know! I have no friends on LINE! “Huhhh, I see… Wait. You have LINE, too?”

“I just made an account. It’s quite convenient, you know? It’s an easy way to acquire information and coupons from the shops you like. If you reply, they’ll send you photos and things,” Yukinoshita explained, extolling the virtues of a messaging app with a warm and fuzzy smile on her face.

With a noncommittal huhhh, I shot Yuigahama a sidelong glance. She caught my implicative look and nodded back at me with a helpless smile. Aha, so it is a cat café account!

But I suspect we haven’t exhausted this topic…, I was thinking when someone popped up in front of me to do the honors.

“Wait, why don’t you have LINE? You can’t figure it out? What, are you a boomer? Were you born in the eighties?” Isshiki said, incredibly rudely.

“I’m one hundred percent Gen Z. And that’s really rude to old people. You see some of them using LINE with no problem. I just choose not to use it because I don’t need it,” I said with a shriek. Yee!

Yukinoshita put a hand to her cheek and nodded. “Well, that’s true enough. I hear these days, even businesses will make good use of it… I’m sure it’s not only a tool for young people.”

“Yeah. Depends on the person. Old guys will practice or whatever if they have to use it, right?” I’m sure these days, there are plenty of grandparents who message their grandkids on LINE…

As I was envisioning a mildly heartwarming scene, Yuigahama suddenly seemed dubious and uncomfortable. “But older men on LINE will try really hard to seem young, so it’s like…really cringey. They come at you with emoji and stamps and everything… And the casual way they talk is kinda…old…”

“I sooo get that. It’s like, wow, I didn’t know words could have old people smell,” Isshiki agreed with a clap of her hands.

…Why did that just hurt me so much? “Wait, how do you guys know so much about the ecology of middle-aged men?”

“My daddy’s on LINE,” said Yuigahama.

“Mine, too,” Isshiki piped up.

Hmm, and what kind of daddies are these…? That does refer to their fathers, right? I’m too scared to know the answer, so I’ll ask something else!

“Are we okay using LINE only for notification? There are people like me who don’t have it, aren’t there?”

“We’ve cross-posted on other social media sites, made the announcement on bulletin boards, and set up a website, so I don’t believe there will be a problem,” Yukinoshita replied smoothly, but then she stopped and giggled. “Besides, anyone who would avoid all those methods of making contact with other people wouldn’t have an interest in going to the prom in the first place. As is, in fact, the case with you.”

“…That makes a helluva lot of sense.” To think my own behavior would be the answer to my own question. I’ve won yet another argument! I want to know defeat.

As I acknowledged the soundness of this logic, Yukinoshita put on a big sisterly smile. “If you have any other questions, or things you don’t understand, please go ahead,” she prompted.

I considered for a bit, but I didn’t really have any doubts about the materials she’d shown me. So far. But there was something I was curious about. “…I don’t have any questions, but there is something I don’t understand. Maybe it’s a bit late to be saying this, but I don’t really get what a prom’s supposed to be. It hasn’t clicked with me. Like, I just can’t imagine it. Honestly, that’s what bothers me most.” I’d thought the same thing back when Isshiki had first come to us about the prom, and then again after looking at the event overview just now.

Yuigahama blinked. “Huh? Isn’t a prom, like, the party we saw in that TV show?”

“Yeah, well, yeah, but… I feel like even if we reproduced the prom from that show, it’d wind up totally different.” I couldn’t quite find the right words for what I wanted to say. I gave a frustrated mmgh in thought, while Yuigahama joined me in racking her brain with a hmm, hmm.

That was when Isshiki came in with a smug chuckle and a know-it-all expression. “Ohhh, I get it! You want to make the kind of prom we would make, the sort of prom only we could come up with, all for me, right?”

“That’s really not it…” What the heck do you mean, all for you? What does that have to do with anything I said…?

“Oh really. Am I wrong then. Please explain…” Isshiki shot me a dirty look.

If I knew that, I wouldn’t have spent all this time groaning, okay? I jerked my face away to escape Isshiki’s glare.

And there, my eyes met with Yukinoshita’s.

“…Well then, how about we go make the answer to that?” With a rather mysterious turn of phrase, she gave a peaceful smile as she stood from her chair.

Leaving the student council room, we headed to the gym.

The indoor sports clubs would normally be practicing there at this time of day, but that moment, we were greeted by an entirely different sight. The front area, including the stage, was a fully laid-out party scene. The flower arrangements and balloon art had been brought in, and a disco ball hung from the ceiling, scattering light over everything.

“Ohhh… This is kinda amazing…” Yuigahama’s honest impression slipped out as she took in the tableau.

Personally, I felt like I’d suddenly been flung out into another dimension, and I couldn’t even find a simple response. I was just stunned and staring.

“I’ll explain in more detail later, but for now, can I ask for you to get changed to prepare? Kawasaki is in the wings setting up the costumes, so please go help her out, Yuigahama,” Yukinoshita said casually.

“Okay!” Yuigahama responded energetically and trotted off to the stage wings.

But that wasn’t happening with me. Did she mean Kawa-something? Is she here, too? What’s going on? I was wondering when Yukinoshita gave me a questioning look.

“Isshiki hasn’t told you?”

“No…” Hellooo? Irohasuuu?

Behind me, I saw Isshiki had a Whoops! look on her face. Well, I can lecture her for real next time—right now, let’s try to understand what the heck is going on. “So what is this? What’re we doing?” I asked Yukinoshita.

“We’re making a promotional video. We’re also making a page for it on the website, so we’ll be taking some photos for that, too. And setting everything up to check operations while we’re at it.” Yukinoshita indicated a few camera tripods that had been set up by the student council.

She seemed to struggle a bit with the rest of the explanation. “And we need some people to star in the video, so I asked Isshiki to handle personnel selection…”

“…Star in the video?” I repeated.

Yukinoshita’s and my eyes slid over to Isshiki. With two people’s worth of pressure on her, even Isshiki must have felt uncomfortable. She was looking at the floor and dripping cold sweat.

Yukinoshita let out a tired-sounding sigh. “We’ll blur faces in the editing, relax. I intend to have you check the footage when we make a rough cut, too… But I imagine it’s uncomfortable to have this requested of you when you haven’t been filled in.” She smiled awkwardly. She was definitely covering for Isshiki with that stuff about editing and rough cuts.

It’s unusual for her to not get mad over something like this… Before, I think she would’ve said a stern Isshiki?

Meanwhile, Isshiki took a break from holding her head and groaning to slide forward and bow at me a couple times. “I’m extremely sorry and I really won’t do it again but also it’s not like that because I was talking about something else and then I got distracted… Also, I got it confused with the stuff I asked Tobe and the guys to help with…”

“Tobe?” I repeated, hearing an unexpected name in the long apology rant.

Isshiki looked up, tucking her hair back behind her ear as she nodded. “Yep. I called over Tobe and some first-years from the soccer club to make things livelier—like, as extras. NPCs.”

“And for the girls, I asked some from my class, as well as Isshiki’s friends,” Yukinoshita added.

“Hmm.” If we were making a promotional video, we would need a decent number of people in it to communicate the vibe. There is that saying “dead trees will enliven a mountain,” after all.

“So you did get other people, huh?” I said. “…Well, if there’s a certain number of people and I’m not noticeable, then fine. I’ll do it.”

“…Sorry.”

“No, I didn’t check what this job was.” I cracked a crooked grin. There was something kind of funny about Isshiki apologizing with such a meek smile.

Then Yukinoshita smiled for us, too. “Thank you. This honestly helps me a lot. I felt a bit hesitant about giving detailed criticism for the retakes to people I don’t really know…”

“Please don’t come in assuming there’ll be retakes…,” I groaned. “Well, anyway, I’ll go get changed.”

“Oh, the costumes are over here.” Isshiki started walking ahead of me. I gave Yukinoshita a Later look, and she nodded back Thank you.

With Isshiki leading me onward, we headed to the opposite wing of the stage from where Yuigahama had gone. On the way, Isshiki’s posture dissolved into a full-on slump. “So…I’m really getting a sense for what you said before.”

“A sense for what?” I caught up and came alongside her.

But Isshiki didn’t lift her head. “Stuff has been going so well, it’s like, I’m letting her handle so much without even meaning to. And now I’m slipping up. I know this can’t be the only thing. At this rate, maybe I will wind up entirely relying on Yukino…” Her tone was gloomy, morose, and full of regret. My advice at lunch had come back to haunt her.

Well, if this one mistake was enough to make her conscious of her other failures, I’d call that pretty outstanding. I still can’t even acknowledge my own failures, you know…

I couldn’t judge her too harshly. “At least you know now, right? If a minor mistake like this makes you more cautious in the future, then that’s a small price to pay.” But the lighthearted approach had little effect.

“Yeah…I’ll be more careful,” she answered, pressing her lips in a tight line.

Well, when you get carried away and screw up, it can really bring you down afterward… Like at a job, you know, around the time you’re getting used to it and starting to think, Whoa, I’m totally great at this, you make an unexpected mistake and the manager kindly helps you out. Then you feel so pathetic and sorry and embarrassed that you wanna die!

Having experienced this firsthand, I wanted to say something to make her feel better. “If something comes up again, then let me know ahead of time… I mean, if you’d told me beforehand, I think I would’ve complained, but I’d still be here. So, um, well, you don’t have to feel—”

“Yeah, of course!” Before I even finished talking, Isshiki’s face jerked up, and she beamed at me. I was struck silent. Then she wilted again, shoulders slumping like before. “I’m joking… I’ll pull myself together.” I could hear a quiet determination in her tone; the joke must’ve been to encourage herself.

When we eventually arrived at the stage wings, Isshiki opened a door to a side room. Following her in, I saw a disorganized space with lecterns, mic stands, and stuff scattered everywhere. They’d also made sure to leave chairs and full-length mirrors there so it could be used as a green room for events. Costumes had been put together and laid out over the chairs.

“Your costume’s here,” Isshiki told me. “If it doesn’t fit, then…Kawasaki? Was that her name? She can adjust it a bit for you.”

“Roger.”

I watched Isshiki as she bobbed a bow at me and left, and I went straight to getting changed.

After I took off my uniform, I picked up my outfit. I guess this was a tuxedo? I don’t really get what makes it different from a suit, but it brought a wedding to mind… It had a standing collar, with a crisply ironed shirt and a bow tie. I basically knew how all those things were worn. But there was another accessory with it, a pin or a brooch or something, and I had no idea what that was. I’d ask later.

Once I had finished dressing, I checked myself in the long mirror, and I saw a worn-out, dying pianist. Hmm…is this how it’s supposed to look? I’ve never worn something like this, so I dunno. If you’re wearing a tuxedo, don’t you have to put on a silk hat and cape and some kind of white mask…?

Fortunately, the size didn’t feel that far off. To complete the outfit, I picked up the bow tie, and after spending a moment doing a Detective Conan impression, I snapped the clasp shut.

Since I didn’t have much experience with formal wear, dressing had taken more time than expected. I left the stage wings in a bit of a rush.

I headed back to Yukinoshita first, and there I found an unfamiliar, smartly dressed, and beautiful boy. The hemline of his jacket was long, with a unique shape, so even I knew what kind of suit this was. It’s what they call a tailcoat, or tails.

“Good. It fits pretty well,” the person said to me, and I finally recognized the bright smile.

“Ohhh… It’s you, Yukinoshita… Hey, why the heck are you wearing that?” I asked.

Yukinoshita stretched out her arms, adjusted the collar of her tailcoat, and lifted up the hem a bit uneasily. “Is it funny?”

“No, not at all…”

In fact, it suited her too well. The monochrome palette brought out the beauty of Yukinoshita’s fair skin, while the trailing hemline and slacks emphasized her long and shapely legs. She’d tied her hair into a ponytail, and it swayed with every movement, giving her an even more ethereal impression. Together with her delicate build, the phrase unfortunate pretty boy crossed my mind. She had such lovely features, it gave her a deviant kind of beauty, an edge.

“You look really cool. Like something out of a movie…” That surreal factor made her difficult to describe.

“Thank you. That’s a tasteful compliment, coming from you.” Yukinoshita hid a smile behind a white-gloved hand, which further enhanced the illusion.

“Oh, I’m pretty serious. It’s like…if you were in a live-action adaptation of the manga, I could say good things about it.”

“Your compliments are getting more and more dubious…” The way she sighed and pressed her hand against her temple looked theatrical, too, but her following remark drew me back to reality. “You look like a character from a movie, too. It quite suits you. You’re just like the leading…bully who harasses the protagonist, an aristocratic type…’s henchman.”

“That’s even worse than calling me a pathetic gangster. Don’t hurt yourself finding something nice to say.”

“I’ve done no such thing; you’re perfect for that role. And besides, you can improve your appearance with a little effort. Lend me your cuff links and handkerchief.” Yukinoshita took off her gloves and held out her hand.

Thinking her bare hands had to be much paler, I handed over the handkerchief. I wondered what “cuff links” were, but then I remembered the unidentified accessories. I fished them out of my pocket and dropped them into Yukinoshita’s palm. “You mean these?”

She suddenly grabbed my arm. Startled, I tried to pull back, but before I could, she was already rolling up my jacket sleeve and tugging on my shirt cuff. She clicked the cuff links on. Then she quickly folded up the handkerchief and slid it into my breast pocket. “The standard three-peaks fold… This is about right.” To finish it off, she gave my breast pocket a pat and smiled with satisfaction.

“O-ohhh… Wait, I’ve seen one of these before. One of those things you see at weddings.”

“I would assume proms were originally an opportunity to learn more formal manners. Although that doesn’t have very much to do with us.”

“For us, this stuff is basically cosplay.”

“I don’t like putting it like that, but, well, I suppose it is…,” Yukinoshita said with a twist of her lips, then put her gloves on again.

“So why a tailcoat?”

“I wanted to get some shots of the prom king and the prom queen dancing. I couldn’t think of anyone with dancing skills, which left me with no choice but to do it myself.”

“Huhhh, so you can even dance, too?”

“Just a few steps. The tuxedo isn’t especially impressive on me. But the added show of a tailcoat actually might be workable, don’t you think?” Yukinoshita said, spinning around in a beautiful pivot. That single turn was such an awe-inspiring sight, it was almost frightening.

I get it. So the fluttering tail is the added show this coat can get you.

But her presence was impressive in and of itself. I was sure when it came to dancing, she knew more than just “a few steps,” too… “I feel sorry for whoever’s dancing with you…”

“It’ll be all right. We tried practicing a bit, and Isshiki seems to have a knack for this,” Yukinoshita said nonchalantly.

That’s not what I meant, though… This is bigger than dancing technique…, I thought, but the more startling piece of information was about her partner. “You’re dancing with Isshiki?”

“Yes. She’s the future prom queen, after all. Perfect, isn’t it?”

There she goes saying stuff like it’s nothing again… Normal people can’t dance, okay? Is Irohasu gonna be able to handle this…? Worried, I cast about looking for Isshiki, and Yukinoshita seemed to notice.

“All right, let’s step out to meet our princesses,” she said and briskly swept toward the stage wings. From behind, she looked just like a prince.

…The prince has been surprisingly into this.

When we’d first come to the school gym, it had seemed like another dimension. The only feeling it had given me was dissonance, but now that some time had passed and the actors were all there, it really started to get party-like. The windows were all blacked out and the lights turned off, and when the spotlight was switched on, it started reminding me of what we’d seen on that TV show.

All the extras seemed to feel it, too—or maybe that was thanks to Festival Man Tobe, who’d come late and was doing his best to be loud and wild. But they were all enjoying themselves chatting. The boys were mainly in tuxes, and the girls all wore their own dresses. Maybe these costumes were part of it. A lot of the crowd there had to have never met each other, but there was a lot of lively conversation going on. I was getting more of a marriage-matchmaking-party vibe than a prom, but they were both fancy.

And the corner where I stood then was the fanciest. The main reason for this was Yukino Yukinoshita, the cross-dressing beauty, and the bewitching little devil Iroha Isshiki.

Isshiki’s dress was mostly orange, and the vivid, cheery color caught your eye. The short skirt wafted outward in a girlish and spritely way, while the decorative lace in suggestive spots like the neckline would go a bit transparent under the light, emphasizing her glamorous charms.

And the little devil now wore a fiendish smile, quite pleased with herself. “Maybe it’s an awful thing to say, but wow, this feels like I’m having a beautiful man wait on me hand and foot… I feel great…” Isshiki was so moved by the experience, she was trembling. This visibly disturbed Yukinoshita.

“That really is an awful thing to say… Could you get away from me a little…?”

“This is the duty of a gentleman! You were properly escorting me just now, weren’t you?! Oooh, that got my heart pounding a little…” An unpleasant chuckle slipped out of Isshiki at the memory.

I immediately got what she was talking about. When she’d gone to pick up Isshiki, this prince of enthusiasm had been so into it, she’d given Isshiki her arm without any hesitation and escorted her right over to the dance floor.

As a result, the dance floor was now humming with chatter, stroking Isshiki’s ego in the process. And now here we were.

“…I’m reconsidering that choice now.” The way Yukinoshita said it, it seemed less like she was reconsidering and more like she just regretted it. Her overenthusiasm had settled down; she even seemed a little worn out. We hadn’t even started, and I could tell she was tired.

She was aware of that herself, and she sighed before motivating herself again with an All right. “Let’s get this filming started. We’ll be having an initial meeting first, so, Hikigaya, you go and get Yuigahama. She should be about done getting changed.”

“Roger,” I replied, heading for the wings. I was told Yuigahama had been with Kawasaki, helping the girls get dressed, and now that she was done, she was finally ready to get started on herself.

I knocked on the door of the front room just offstage a few times. I was immediately met with a slightly irritated-sounding “Come iiiin.”

This fear… It’s definitely Kawasaki…, I thought as I slowly opened the door.

Through the door, I saw Yuigahama, just finishing changing into her dress and doing her final check.

The dress was pale pink, almost white, but the translucent-seeming fabric gave the color a far more mature feel to it. Or maybe it was just her silhouette. Her neckline was wide open, the dress coming together around her waist, emphasizing her curves to draw an arc. Though the skirt went well past her knees, the longish slit kept it light—there was even an airiness in the way it fluttered every time she stirred. Her hair, which was usually tied in a bun, was now braided like a flower crown, and the form of address a certain prince had used popped up in my mind.

But that impression only lasted until I saw her giggling in front of the mirror.

Yuigahama stood before a full-length mirror, worrying over the hemline and chest area, prodding at the dress all over. “Wow…this dress is kinda…amazing… Or like, intense.”

“Don’t move.” Behind her, Kawasaki was rustling around adjusting the dress length or something. The chill in her voice made Yuigahama straighten up again.

But then she put a hand to her waist area. “O-okay… Uh, um…I want to tighten the stomach a bit…,” she said timidly.

“Huh? …You’re gonna be dancing and stuff later. Won’t it be too tight?” Kawasaki replied with some irritation in her voice.

But if you listened closely, you could tell she was trying to show consideration. Maybe that was why Yuigahama didn’t really shrink away—in fact, she made a noise kind of like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. “Ah, w-wahhh… I-I’ll suck it up!”

“Agh… I’ll adjust it a bit.” Sighing all the while, Kawasaki briskly met Yuigahama’s demand, then gave her a little shove in the back. “All right, you’re good. Do your makeup yourself.”

“Ah, okay! Thanks, Saki! And sorry to make you wait, Hikki! I’ll be ready in a jiffy!” Yuigahama said, then pattered off to the dresser. She slid a scarf around her neck, maybe to keep from getting makeup on her dress, then quickly began laying out makeup tools.

“You can take your time. They’re still having their meeting,” I called out to her.

Yuigahama only gave me an “Mm” in reply. Probably she was busy putting something on.

Passing behind her, Kawasaki strode up to the exit, where I stood. I could see the fatigue. “I’m heading home, so you guys manage the rest on your own.”

“Hey, thanks,” I said. “Sorry, it sounds like you got asked to help kinda out of the blue.”

“I did.” Kawasaki glared at me.

Wahhhh, I’m sorryyyy, I thought, cringing away and looking at the ground, and then I heard a short feh that could have been a sigh or a chuckle.

“Her skirt is long, and the heels are high, so be careful until she’s used to it,” Kawasaki said—very brusquely, but also very kindly, as she slipped languidly past me.

My only response to her was a “Y-yeah.” Very cute, Kawa-something.

With that thought, I watched Kawasaki go.

That left just Yuigahama and me in the room. With nothing better to do, my gaze naturally drifted over there. In front of the dresser, Yuigahama was brushing her cheeks like she knew what she was doing.

But then her hand suddenly stopped flat. And then when our eyes met in the mirror, she said hesitantly, “U-um…it’s hard to do this if you’re staring at me…” The cheek she’d just been brushing was pink tinged, and that made me suddenly feel awkward, too. I looked away.

“Ahhh, sorry. Don’t worry about me. Keep going… Wait, aren’t you mostly done? Isn’t that enough?”

“Huhhh?! …Not yet.” She hesitated a moment and eyed herself in the mirror, and then her hands started moving again.

“O-oh…” I really think it’s enough, though. Well, um, like, I think you’re already pretty the way you are—but I swallowed those words and said nothing more.

Yuigahama swapped her brush for a pen and set it on the edge of her lips. “I mean, we’re making a video, right? I don’t want it to look bad.”

“She said they’ll be editing it so you can’t see individual faces.”

“That’s just for the one they’re showing everyone, right? We’ll still have the original data. That’s not gonna get erased. I wouldn’t erase it. So…I want to make sure it looks nice,” she finished quietly, then drew a faint line of pink. She lifted her jaw, moving her chin to change the angle of her face, slowly, slowly moving the pen to make the line straight. With her lips pink and glossy, the Yuigahama in the mirror looked like a completely different person. None of her usual innocence could be seen in her expression as she gazed into the mirror. She seemed unbearably far away.

Without even thinking, my mouth popped open to say, “Is that how it is…?”

“That’s how it is! Okay, done!” Then she spun away from the mirror, back to me, and smiled brightly. That was enough to draw a breath of near relief from me, which was when I realized I’d been holding my breath at all. I’d been mostly unconsciously scratching my head in an attempt to hide it.

“Aren’t you gonna fix your hair, too, Hikki?”

“No…”

“Huhhh? But it’s a mess. And this is a promotional video, so you can’t be a mess. That’s really too…” Yuigahama’s eyes were locked on the top of my head. And I was already seeing the pity rising inside her.

I-is it that bad…? I guess so. It is that bad.

Besides, she was also right to point out that a promotional video was supposed to give a positive impression, so it’d be bad to have me all scruffy in it. “Well, then I’ll fix it a bit… I’ll grab some wax while I’m here. Gel works, too.”

When I went up to the dresser, Yuigahama stepped aside to let me take the seat. With the benefit of Komachi’s instruction, even I could manage my hair, at least. I was in a tuxedo, so even a simple sort of slicked-back look should be good enough, right? The problem is that it would only contribute to the crappy gangster image…

I was reaching for the wax that lay among the array of makeup tools, when instantly, it was snatched away from behind me. When I turned back, Yuigahama said nonchalantly, “I’ll do it for you, Hikki. It’ll look weird if you do it yourself.”

“Whoa… You have no faith in my taste… Not that you should… But hey, I can manage this much—”

“C’mon, just leave it to me! I’m good at this, honest!” Before Yuigahama had even finished saying the words, she’d grabbed my head and yanked it around to face the mirror.

Ow, ow, ow! That’s super-embarrassing, and the sweat glands on my scalp are wide-open and leaking!

But this damn girl was humming and gleeful. “Are there any itchy spots, sir?”

“Uh, you really don’t have to do the stylist thing—just get it done…” I was so mortified and bothered by my scalp sweat, I froze, and then Yuigahama’s hands stopped moving. Huh? Does my hair feel gross? Sorry, I was thinking, when I looked at her through the mirror to see she wore a deeply serious frown.

“Hikki, your scalp is so tough! …You’ll go bald.”

“Hey! That’s a really low blow… This means war…”

“Kidding, kidding! It’s soft, it’s soft! Coochie-coochie coo!”

“Thatticklesthatticklesstopstop…cut it out…stoppleasestop…” My hands jerked up to hide my face with a wahhh. I didn’t need a mirror to know how pathetic I looked, and I didn’t want her to see, either. As I was cringing in on myself, her slim fingers twirled through my hair, slowly making separated tufts. Her humming turned into a melody, a soft song.

Between my hair being combed, my head stroked, and an occasional sensation like play bites with fingertips, the tension in my body was gradually unwinding. I was practically helpless as a fish on a chopping block at this point, eyes closed and still.

“…Okay, done.”

When I opened my eyes, Yuigahama tilted her head at me in the mirror, asking with her eyes how she’d done. I answered with a couple bobs of my head to say, Great job. Really, her skill was wasted on me.

It seemed my satisfaction came out on my face, as Yuigahama smiled and laid her hands on my shoulders. “You make sure to look cool in this, too, Hikki.”

“Leave it to me. Lately, digital editing has really made leaps and bounds. Science can do anything.”

“Ah-ha! What’s that supposed to mean?” She smacked my shoulder with a laugh, and with that, we were both done getting ready. I got up from my seat and took a step toward the dance floor.

Then I heard footsteps clicking across the floor. It wasn’t her usual loud pitter-patter, but a slow and graceful sound. That reminded me. “Kawasaki said to watch out for your skirt and heels.”

“Ah, oh yeah. It’s true—this is pretty tricky. Might be tough to get used to…”

“Yeah… Also, it’s dark here,” I said, raising up my left elbow a bit. I straightened my back, pushed out my chest, and drew back my chin. Keep your cool, was it? I got the feeling I’d been taught something about that.

Yuigahama gave me a curious look, but eventually, she gave an ah of understanding and cracked a smile. Then without saying a word, she laid her hand on my left elbow. Just like that other time.

After these many excuses, we walked a terribly short distance with matched strides.

The actual filming went very smoothly. The biggest factor for that had been the faultless conclusion of the dance scene with the king and queen, which had been the greatest concern. Yukinoshita and Isshiki put on a wonderful show for the crowd.

Despite having modestly said she just knew “a few steps,” once Yukinoshita got started, her execution was stunning. With sonorous taps of her leather shoes, her clean turns made her tailcoat flutter while her pure-white gloves gently held her partner’s hands. Every move she made got the girls all excited.

As for her partner—perhaps Isshiki’s comparative lack of experience hamstrung her after all. The whole time, it looked like Yukinoshita was just swinging her around. Isshiki’s dancing was somewhat lacking—sometimes she’d mess up and step on Yukinoshita’s feet. But she had a cheeky way of wilting and hanging her head every time she made some kind of mistake, and then when Yukinoshita smiled at her to cover those mistakes, Isshiki would beam back at her with perfect charm. As a boy watching, I found that there was something about the way she embodied cute girlishness that made my heart go pitter-patter.

Everyone watching offered applause and ovations, and we all got quite into it.

But as Isshiki was checking over the video while on break, she tilted her head questioningly. “We look great, and everyone around is cheering, too, but it feels almost…hard-core… It’s like a legit competitive dance…”

“Yes, I think it was different from what we envisioned, if I do say so myself…” Peeking out from behind Isshiki to look at the screen, Yukinoshita put a hand to her temple and sighed.

Listening from the side, I reflected on the scene from earlier. Yeah, maybe she’s right… It felt less like a fun party with the gang and more like watching a show…, I thought.

It seemed Isshiki had reached the same conclusion. She nodded and turned back to Yukinoshita. “Well, this’ll be fine for what it is, to show off the slow dance portion. But I also want some footage with a more Whoo, let’s go vibe.”

“Something that feels casual, with lots of energy, hmm…? How about we take a video of everyone dancing? Could we try doing it mostly following you and Tobe as the main focus?”

“I guess that’s how it’s gonna be, huh…? Agh…”

Isshiki really seems like she doesn’t wanna do it, huh…? Well, Yukinoshita can’t really do the party vibe, so we don’t have much choice…, I thought, smiling. Not my problem.

But then for some reason, Yukinoshita’s gaze slid over to me. “…And one more scene, just for extra footage. Yuigahama, can I ask you to join in? And Hikigaya as well.”

“Huh?” Yuigahama’s face went blank.

My jaw dropped. What is she talking about…? “Um, I’ve never danced before…,” I said, raising my hand slightly, and Yuigahama agreed with big nods. Listen, this isn’t a ballroom, okay? I was thinking when Isshiki strolled over.

“Whatever is fine for this video. Just imagine, like, what they do at a club, you know,” Isshiki said, putting a hand on her waist and sticking up a finger to wave it around.

She’s acting like she’s explaining something, but that’s not an explanation at all…

As the weariness settled in, Yukinoshita came over to cover for Isshiki. “You can just copy what you see everyone else do,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “This is ultimately just to have the footage, since it’s always best to have excess material for the editing process. If you like, you can focus on making Isshiki and Tobe look good.”

“O-okay…that’s something I’m supergood at…” I have a lot of experience foiling other people’s fun, after all.

Besides, what Yukinoshita was saying made sense. You could never have too much footage, and we probably wouldn’t get another opportunity to do a large-scale filming like this. It would cause problems if we realized too late that we didn’t have enough of one thing or had to throw out another thing. It wasn’t a bad idea to film as much as we could now.

Despite the logic of it, though, something felt wrong, or really out of whack. Like the pieces required to make this logic work were missing.

“Um…and you think we’re the ones to do it?” Yuigahama asked tentatively, and that was when I felt like the pieces clicked together.

But that feeling was immediately drowned out when Yukinoshita replied instantly. “I think so. The role will draw more attention to you, so I feel a bit hesitant about asking others to do it. That being the case, it would help a lot if you could. If it’s too much, though, I’ll look into some other way…” She said it so smoothly, without even a thought.

“Oh, no.” Yuigahama gave a troubled smile, giving a little wave in front of her chest to accept the job. “I don’t mean that… If you’re okay with it, I’m good.”

Well, if she was going to ask like that, then we couldn’t refuse. The people there had mostly come out of good intentions and kindness, so it was hard to ask too much.

“Then first, let’s just try filming a shot!” Isshiki clapped her hands. Yuigahama and I joined all the others shuffling out. When we went to our designated positions, Yuigahama was there at the front.

“…Can you dance?” I asked quietly.

Yuigahama made some mumbling, uncomfortable movements with her mouth. “I dunno… But if it’s a, like, whoo! kinda feeling, then, like, I can get into the moment!”

“A whoo kinda feeling, huh…?”

“Yeah, yeah! Whoooo!” Yuigahama forced some excitement into her voice, adding in some idol-esque moves. I didn’t really get it.

As I was sighing, the tuxedoed Tobe next to us was drawn to all the whooing and slung an arm over my shoulder. “C’mon, Hikitani! Dude, ya gotta have fun with it! It’s like—whoo, whoo! C’mon, whoooo!”

I had no idea what he meant—however, this was the one time when his vapid energy was a lifeline.

“O-okay… Guess you’re used to all this…,” I said, half feeling like I was talking to myself.

Tobe gave a toothy and smug grin. “Right? Hey, dude, you don’t gotta worry—it’s all good. It’s like, dude. You gotta groove on the offbeat. It’s like…like taking a shower in the sound? Once the music’s on, you dance! You with me?”

“Tobe, please be quiet,” Isshiki snapped.

“Dude…,” said Tobe before dejectedly going into standby.

His advice had not been useful at all, but his stance was what we needed right now. There was nothing to do but vaguely imitate Tobe’s vibe. It’s like if you go to a concert, even if you’ve never heard the song before, you can still chant along when they call “One, two!”

Once I was done getting myself mentally prepared, I quietly waited for the music to start. Then the lights went out.

What eventually started playing was a standard number at dance parties. The spotlight swung around, and the disco ball rained down its glow.

At first, everyone was awkward, just swaying shoulders along with the rhythm. But when Tobe and a few others started the fist pumping, some more followed. They clapped loud enough to echo off the gym walls, gradually bringing everyone closer together. Taking a step in to do a twist, another step in and high five, doing a joking robot dance. Some people were even brave enough to entwine their arms.

As the crowd slowly succumbed to the intoxicating music and atmosphere, it led into the next song. Though I wouldn’t call it a ballad, it was a mellower song than the last one.

So far, I’d just been, like, glancing around at everyone else as I swayed my shoulders and snapped my fingers, but I just couldn’t quite manage to join in any more than that. My feet and the shaking of my head marked the rhythm like a metronome. And then there was a tug on my free hand.

Looking over, I saw Yuigahama smiling shyly. My heart rate was up from the exercise, but that didn’t explain the badum when it skipped a beat, and I instinctively glanced out of the corner of my eyes at everyone else.

Everyone was either jokingly dancing random waltzes or stubbornly staring at each other and dancing at a metaphorical arm’s length apart.

Which meant nobody was paying any attention to us. And all I was looking at was Yuigahama. I gently laid my now-free hands on her shoulders. I didn’t know any steps or anything. I just swayed my body with her; if she stepped forward, I went back, and if she moved to the side, I followed. The places where she touched were hot, and I was so worried about my hands being sweaty, and I didn’t even want to breathe with her face so close.

This is more brutal than I imagined, mainly mentally… Instead of an excuse, my mouth decided to say, “Sorry, I’m sweating a lot.”

“Ah, yeah. It’s a lot of exercise, huh?”

“No, um, like, I—I mean, it’s gross, right? I mean, like, I should die, right?”

“Huh?! Why so dramatic?! And so down on yourself!” Yuigahama laughed, and the song changed again. I’d heard this one before. It was the song that had played at the end of that TV show. Yuigahama’s gaze slid to the side.

I followed her and saw Isshiki and Tobe dancing wildly. Their rhythm and moves were all over the place, but they seemed to be having fun anyway. When Tobe tried to put his hands around Isshiki’s waist, she smacked them away and then spun as if she were going to give him a roundhouse kick… The dancing queen indeed.

When the song was over, applause and a cheer went up. And then everyone went off to enjoy their own chats or eagerly started taking pictures of themselves, their friends, and their dance partners.

So now the dance scene we were so worried about has basically been filmed. Okay, I thought, and the exhaustion hit me all at once. I wobbled away from the circle of people and toward the tables where the catering had been set up.

With a sip of my drink, I surveyed the dance floor and the decorations on the stage.

I see—so this is a prom… Well, I kinda get the vibe now. Really not my thing.